Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pavilion of Priceless Treasures

Jidou pondered over Qin Xiaomo’s words. They were not without sense—there was even a certain logic to them. After a while, Jidou said, “Alright, I’ll send you the permission key for Desolation City. Adjust the program so that all levels are set to the lowest difficulty, and the drop rate is at a hundred percent. Let’s see if this changes anything in the game world.” With that, Jidou tapped a key and sent it over.

Qin Xiaomo truly wished she could just delete the entire program with a single click. But her livelihood depended on this job; she couldn’t just wipe everything and wait to starve, or get drowned in her colleagues’ ridicule.

“What are you doing, turning your computer on and off all the time?” Jidou heard the computer restart yet again and turned to ask.

“I just made changes to the Desolation City map program. But the moment I saved, the screen went black, and when I reopened it, everything had reverted to how it was before. This happened twice already…” Qin Xiaomo felt a little uneasy.

Jidou’s carefree demeanor faltered; she was nervous too. She walked over and tried to save changes on Qin Xiaomo’s computer, only to encounter the same issue. Then she turned to her own computer, made a random change, and saved—everything worked perfectly. “Log into your account on my computer and try making the changes,” she suggested.

Qin Xiaomo logged in, adjusted the drop rate, and saved. Jidou’s computer also went black and restarted.

The two exchanged anxious glances. The sudden silence was unnerving. Even though Jidou said nothing, Qin Xiaomo knew she was scared too.

Jidou was the first to break the strange silence. “Could it be that because you’ve already connected with another world, you’re now bound by its rules, and there are no shortcuts? I remember reading a book once about the Will of Heaven—it said that Dao is like the laws of the universe, regulating everyone’s behavior so the world doesn’t fall into chaos. Maybe it’s the same here. We don’t know what it’s constraining, but I’d guess things like animals not being able to suddenly gain sentience, or exorcists not using spells to harm others.”

“So you think my appearance in the game has triggered that world’s rules?”

“Something like that. Put simply, since you’ve entered, you have to play by their rules—no modifying game progress, no shortcuts. That black cave you mentioned—maybe it’s a hidden world in the game. For now, the only thing we can do is gather all the design blueprints, and make sure we understand every NPC and quest mechanism before we go to bed tonight.”

“Then… what about that groundfish?” Qin Xiaomo suddenly remembered the puddle of green slime.

“Maybe it has nothing to do with the groundfish. You said yourself you weren’t sure. Anyway, let’s not dwell on it now. We haven’t eaten properly all day. No matter how big the problem, we need to eat first.” Jidou patted Qin Xiaomo’s shoulder reassuringly.

Qianjin Pavilion.

“Qianjin Pavilion—what kind of fortune-telling place picks a name like that? Must be a scam,” gossiped two passing neighbors.

“The owner’s called Liu the Half-Immortal. He’s always gambling and playing cards, never acting serious,” one woman whispered.

“But is he accurate?”

“Some people say he is, but who knows if he just pays for good reviews. Besides, would you dare go, even if he is?”

“I saw a TV show the other day with a place called Qianjin Pavilion—know what kind of place it was?”

“What?”

“A brothel, ha!” one of them said, laughing as they passed by.

Inside Qianjin Pavilion, an old ceiling fan creaked laboriously.

“It’s only May—why is it so hot? Go bring me my palm fan,” Liu the Half-Immortal said, eyes glued to his computer, speaking to a plainly dressed boy of about fourteen or fifteen.

“Master, shouldn’t we… change the shop’s name?” Qingfeng, ears perked to the gossip outside, pouted, clearly displeased.

“What’s wrong with the name? They can say what they like. I picked this name after much deliberation—it’ll bring us luck and good business.” Liu was thin and wiry, his singlet emphasizing his gaunt frame. One hand scratched his foot, the other clutched a steaming mug of tea from which he sipped and then spat out a tea leaf.

“East Wind!” the computer chimed with the sound of mahjong.

“Master, can you stop playing cards? We haven’t had a single customer in half a month. Aren’t you worried?”

“The old gang had the day off, and my hands were itching. Besides, it’s good for mental agility—keeps the mind sharp, prevents senility. You’re too young to understand,” Liu said, glancing at Qingfeng.

“Hmph! There’s nothing left in the kitchen but potatoes and sweet potatoes. Do as you will,” Qingfeng grumbled, heading inside to fetch the fan.

“There’s five yuan and thirty cents on the Eight Immortals table—my change from yesterday’s game. Go buy some tofu later, we’ll have it cold for lunch,” Liu called toward the back.

Qingfeng came out with the fan, resigned. “Master, are we still going to watch over the sinkhole tonight?”

At this, Liu paused, counting the days. “Take another twenty from my pocket. Buy half a roast duck. Fill up first—we’ve got business to attend to this afternoon.”

“Yes, Master!” At the mention of roast duck, Qingfeng’s eyes lit up. He took the money and dashed out, delighted.

“Don’t buy too much, you rascal—save me some money!” Liu called after him.

Half a month of nothing but plain fare; a growing boy couldn’t live on steamed buns and potatoes alone. He craved more, but dared not say so.

Liu the Half-Immortal nonchalantly returned to his mahjong game on the computer.

Jingshan Road, commercial district.

“What are we doing here?” Qin Xiaomo looked at the sinkhole ahead, cordoned off with police tape.

“You’re the one who’s curious. After lunch, we’ll investigate the source of that green slime. Hopefully, we’re wrong. If it’s really a groundfish like you suspect, that’s not something the two of us can handle—the consequences could be dire…” Jidou dared not finish the thought.

“If that thing can cross from the game world, does that mean other people or things from my game could come over too?” The more Qin Xiaomo spoke, the more troubled she felt. “Should we tell Director Yan and delete the game data? That way everyone’s safe.”

“This game is Director Yan’s lifeblood. Even if there really are groundfish, he’ll never agree to deleting the data. Besides, you can’t even modify the data now…” Jidou shook her head.

“You mean, if we can’t even change the data, deleting it is out of the question?”

“Exactly,” Jidou replied with a firm nod.

“Then who can we ask? Who can help us?” Qin Xiaomo looked on the verge of tears.

Jidou had no answers either. “The noodles are here—eat first, think later. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. From the beginning, you were only expected to do your job. You’re not a superhero; you don’t have to bear the weight of saving humanity. If something happens, there will be a way through.”

With tears glistening in her eyes, Qin Xiaomo lowered her head and ate her noodles.

Outside the window, two familiar figures passed by. Qingfeng glanced back and, recognizing them, hurriedly told Liu, “Master, it’s those two ladies.”

At that moment, a sharp, penetrating gaze swept into the room from outside.